


Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing, Baby

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dominance, First Time, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Shower Sex, Slash, Stanford Era, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam was fifteen he made it pretty clear to Dean what he wanted.  Dean made it pretty clear right back  that  Sam wasn't getting it if he didn't at least try to see if there was anyone else out there who'd make him happy.  Sam tries.  Sort of.  Dean gets with the program.  Eventually.  Wincest ensues.  Complete in three parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As far back as Dean could remember, it'd always been hard to be Sam's big brother. It was hard when he was four and Sammy was just a baby and it was largely up to him to try to take his mother's place. Comforting Sam and quieting him when he cried was the first of Dean's jobs. Dean was smart and determined and it wasn't long before he had getting his little brother to sleep down to a science. Soon feeding time was another responsibility his dad had ceded to him. Dad never did have much luck getting Sam to take a bottle, and when he'd graduated to cereals, Dean had been sure Sam would starve. His little brother had just pressed those lips together and stared at John defiantly. When Dean had offered to give it a try, John couldn't give up the spoon fast enough. And Sam had smiled, wide and happy, and let Dean shovel cereal and peas into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks. When Sam had started walking, it had been Dean he'd toddled to to fall laughing onto him. Dean would laugh too and fall backwards, carrying Sammy down with him and cuddling him until Sam would push away to try again. Dad was there for some of it, but mostly it was Dean shepherding Sammy through the milestones of his childhood.

Until they were teenagers, Dean always had to share a bed with his little brother. The only exceptions were when they were staying with Bobby or Pastor Jim. They still had to share a room, but the twin beds were like heaven. For the first night or two anyway. Then Sam would be too cold or have a nightmare and he'd be back in bed with Dean where he seemed to think he belonged. Dean never sent him away. It was just easier to make sure Sam was still alive in the middle of the night when he was pressed up against Dean and his soft breaths were puffing against Dean's neck. Lying there in the dark, Dean would listen to the sound of his brother living and all the hard work and worry and fear that it had taken to get Sam through his babyhood, to school age, then all the way to a teenager seemed totally worth it. In retrospect, Dean should have known that what had come before was actually the easy part.

Dean's epiphany that life with Sam was about to get a whole lot harder came during a sparring session in the back yard of a trailer that John had rented for the summer as a base of operations. It was Texas in July and neither of them particularly wanted to be outside in the dust and heat, but Dad had called to make sure Dean was keeping up with his drills. Since Dean had only been doing his p.t. once a day instead of twice, and Sam hadn't been doing it at all, they decided they'd better get going before Dad got home. He'd test them and it would be way less painful and humiliating if they'd been working at the moves he'd shown them before he left.

After a five mile run and a turn running their heads under the hose, they'd gone to the yard to work on their fighting skills. Dean had put Sam on his ass ten times in a row and had taken a short break to pull off his sweat soaked shirt. When he'd turned back he'd found Sam staring at him, red faced with fury and something else that Dean couldn't quite put his finger on. Sam's breath was coming out in harsh pants and Dean leaned down to give him a hand up. Sam shifted his weight and tried to pull Dean down , but Dean had his weight balanced and was ready for that. He pulled Sam up and tried to put him right back down again, but _Sam_ was ready for _that_. He gripped Dean's wrist tightly and propelled himself forward until he was pressed against his brother's bare chest. He grabbed the back of Dean's head and pulled him down into a hard kiss. There weren't many things that could throw Dean off balance, but damned if Sam hadn't just found one. Dean rocked backward and Sam threw a leg behind him and knocked him to the ground, landing heavily on top of his stunned brother.

Dean just lay there for a moment trying to take in what had just happened. Sam had taken him down. That had never happened before. Knowing how to fight, doing the moves correctly was a matter of life and death to them and Dean wasn't going to put Sam at risk by pretending that he was doing everything the right way when he wasn't. The bad guys weren't going to just let Sam win. He was going to have to beat them by being better. The element of surprise was important, but Dean didn't think that Sam was going to get the better of a corporeal spirit or a werewolf by kissing them. It had sure as shit worked on him though. His thoughts gradually came around to processing the fact that Sam was still lying on top of him and his eyes focused on Sam's face just inches from his own.

"Hey, Sammy," he managed. "Way to work in the element of surprise. Now get the hell off me." Sam's face still had that look and without the rage to dilute it, Dean had no trouble recognizing it. A pit of ice began to form in his stomach when Sam showed no sign of moving.

"Don't want to." Sam smiled his Sammy smile, wide and happy and suddenly very wrong. "I finally put you on your back and I think I should get to enjoy it for a minute." Sam was pressed tightly enough against his brother that Dean could feel, in no uncertain terms, just how _much_ Sam was enjoying it.

"I think you're enjoying it a little too much, bitch, and I want you off me."

Sam just grinned and pushed his hips against his brother's. "Seems like you might be enjoying it a little too, jerk. We both know that if you really didn't want me here, I wouldn't still be here."

Dean had to concede both points. He _could_ feel himself responding to Sam and while, at fifteen, Sam was catching up to him in the height department, Dean still outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. Dean could have been back on his feet in five seconds if he had wanted to. If he had had the first clue what was going on.

"What the fuck, Sam? I know you're pissed that you can't beat me in a fight, but really. What the fuck?"

Sam's face grew more serious and he dipped closer to capture Dean's mouth under his. Dean twisted his head and brought one hand up hard against Sam's shoulder, rocking his brother back away from him, but not dislodging him from his prone position.

"Christo!" Dean muttered, while trying to reach into his back pocket for his silver knife. This wasn't Sam. It couldn't be. _Something_ was controlling his little brother. He didn't want to hurt Sam, but he needed to find out what was going on. He managed to get the knife out and made a shallow cut along the back of Sam's hand.

"Ow! What was that for! You could just throw me off, you don't have to knife me, asshole!" Sam scrambled off Dean and knelt a few feet away, clutching his bleeding hand. "And _Christo_? You fucking think I'm possessed?"

"You kissed me, Sam! Twice! What the hell am I supposed to think? That all of a sudden you have the hots for me?"

Dean didn't think it was possible for Sam's face to get any redder, but from the deepening color in his brother's cheeks, it obviously was. Sam ducked his head, suddenly unable to meet his brother's eyes and Dean had to strain to hear his next words.

"Not all of a sudden, Dean." Sam whispered.

"What do you mean _not all of a sudden_? What..? I mean...I don't... How long, Sammy?" Dean felt like things were spinning away from him.

Sam raised his head to face his brother and the misery and longing in his gaze hit Dean like a blow. Dean had to clench his fists and dig his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out to run a comforting hand through Sam's unruly hair. The image of his hand in his brother's hair was followed by one where he used that hand to pull Sam's head forward into a kiss that _he_ instigated. That thought went straight to Dean's still mostly hard cock and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head hard to clear the image from his brain. He didn't know what was going on with Sam, but he wasn't going to make it worse by encouraging him in any way. Sam's eyes dropped to Dean's fisted hands and he let out a long sigh.

"You going to hit me now?"

Dean swallowed hard and relaxed his hands. "No. No, Sammy I'm not going to hit you. Now answer my question. _How long_?"

"Since I walked in on you and Martina Chorosky."

Dean just stared at Sam blankly. "Refresh my memory here, Sam."

"Jesus, Dean do you ever remember any of the girls that you're with? Three years ago. Evanston. I walked in on the two of you while she was blowing you. She lived a few doors down and I know for a fact that you fucked her more than once."

"So...you walk in on some chick giving me head and what?"

Sam was staring at his hands again. "You didn't see me. You had your head back and your eyes closed and the look on your face... God, Dean. You just have no idea. You were telling her how good she was making you feel. And I wanted it to be me."

Dean's brain didn't want Sam to be saying what he thought he was saying. His dick, however, pushed harder against his jeans. "You wanted it to be you who was getting his cock sucked?" he asked hopefully.

"No." Sam said quietly. "I wanted to be the one making you feel that way. I still do."

Dean closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had to be careful here. What Sam was suggesting wasn't something he was totally opposed to. But Sam was his little brother, his responsibility always.

"Why'd you wait so long to say something? Why now, Sam?"

Sam's voice dropped even lower. "I've only ever seen you with girls, Dean. I didn't think you'd want to with a guy. But today I heard...."

Dean's heart began to pound and his mouth was dry. Guys were a new thing for him, but Dean was nothing if not adventurous, and he loved sex in all its incarnations. He thought he'd been careful enough that nothing would ever get back to Sam or his dad. "You're not a guy, Sammy. You're my little brother. And what exactly did you hear to make you think I'd want to be with a guy."

"I heard a couple of girls talking when I was in town getting groceries. One of the girls had an older brother who was gay and she was telling her friend about the guy her brother brought home Saturday night while their parents were out. She was pretty pissed that her brother landed a hotter guy than she did. She watched you making out on the couch and spied on the two of you in the bedroom. She was pretty explicit about what she saw too. Didn't sound like you were being forced to do anything you didn't want to, so I came to the conclusion that you don't just fuck girls. Was I wrong?"

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit_. Dean had wanted to go to a motel, but _no_ , the guy he had let pick him up had insisted on doing it in his own bed. Dean had to admit it had been a lot more comfortable than any motel bed he'd ever been in and he'd had a hell of a time in that bed, but still. The little sister had been _spying_ on them? She'd been pretty and Dean had sure recognized the look on her face as he'd walked past her to get to the bedroom. She'd been maybe sixteen, though and he'd given her his best smile and a promise to look her up in a couple of years. Sneaky bitch'd be lucky if he didn't look her up right now to put the fear of Dean Winchester into her. Spying on him with his dick up her brother's ass and telling her friend all about it? In front of Sam no less? _Shit_.

"Some girl you don't know was talking about some guy her brother's fucking-and by the way, Sam, don't let me _ever_ catch you talking about me and anyone I'm with to anyone-and you just assume it's me? It could have been anybody."

Sam huffed. "Her brother wasn't fucking the guy, the guy was fucking her brother. Which you know perfectly well, since you were the guy. Jesus, Dean, we're in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. You know what you look like! How many guys your age do you think there are around here who look even half as good as you? None, that's how many! You know how the sister described you? He was like some sort of gorgeous sex god." Sam's voice broke a little as he continued. " _Some sort of gorgeous sex god_. Everywhere we go, I hear about you and what a great lay you are. The girls can't say enough. Now it's going to be guys too. I want it to be me, Dean. Please just let it be me?"

Dean wanted to mock Sam to death for the gorgeous sex god comment but the pleading tone of Sam's voice had Dean's heart stinging. Sam wanted him. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn't about to do it unless he was absolutely sure that Sam knew what he was doing.

"Sam." It came out a little choked and Dean had to clear his throat before he continued. "Have you been with a lot of guys?" The thought of Sam on his knees or bent over while some random man reamed his ass was making Dean nauseous. "Do you like girls at all?"

"Never been with a guy Dean. I want it to be you. And I like girls fine. Just don't see the point of getting serious with one when nothing's going to come of it. We'll move on and they'll be gone. You're the only one that's always here, Dean. The only one that's going to always be where I am."

"So let me get this straight, Sam." Dean forced himself to be harsh, because he wanted Sam right back and there was no way he was going to fuck the kid up forever by giving in to it. "You fixated on me when you were fucking _twelve_ years old and you've never even given yourself a chance to find out if anyone else out there could be anything for you. You want me because I'm _convenient_? Because I'll be there when we move on? You think I'm going to start fucking my little brother because it's easier for him than trying to actually work at a normal relationship? There's a lot of amazing people out there Sam. You're not doing yourself any favors by hiding away from them because you're afraid."

"I _know_ there are amazing people out there, Dean. But I'm not like you. I can't just have a relationship just be about sex. I need more. And I'm never going to get it in the couple of months that we ever spend anywhere."

"You have to try, Sam. I can't be that for you." _Not if you've never even given yourself a chance to find someone better_.

Sam's eyes dropped to the bulge that still strained Dean's crotch. "You want to."

"I can't." Dean was done talking about this. " And since it would be really awkward to do any more sparring today, I'm going to take a shower. You might want to cool off a little under the hose before you come in. And Sam?"

"What?"

"We're not talking about this ever again. And we're going to keep sparring, so figure out a way to deal with it. I recommend a pretty girl and a make out session that goes a little further than you usually take it. Try taking it all the way, Sam. You might just find out that there are things out there that aren't me that can make you happy."

Sam watched Dean walk to the house. His heart clenched and tears dripped down his face as he tried to figure out what was so wrong with what he was seeing. Then he realized. Dean was just walking. The Dean Winchester swagger that screamed SEX ON LEGS HERE! was missing. God, he had fucked everything up. He hadn't meant to push it so hard, but the heat and the sweat and the anger and the knowledge that Dean would have sex with a guy had all teamed up to push him over the edge. And he was scared to death that Dean was going to be different with him now. Careful and contained and not sexy and not _Dean_. Sam sighed and went to rinse his tears away under the hose.

**********************************************************************

Sam didn't give up easily, ever, when there was something he really wanted and his pursuit of his brother was no exception. Every new town, every new school, Dean would try to push Sam at some pretty, but brainy girl and in one embarrassing incident, a hot and brainy guy. Sam would go out with the girls and he even hung out with the guy, but he never even tried for anything more serious. There was no point. Two months, four months, six months max and he would be moving on, never to see them again. Only Dean was a constant. Dean with his perfect body and his beautiful face and his tomcat reputation where ever they went. Sam knew Dean loved him. Might even want him. And every time he was tempted to give up on what he craved more than air, Sam would think back to that dusty Texas afternoon and the feeling of Dean's hard cock underneath him.

The years passed and Sam played at being a normal teen and Dean never did mention what had happened between them. To Sam's immense relief, he was still Dean. Still happy, joking, gross Dean. But he was more careful with Sam. There was no more bed sharing anywhere and when they sparred he was always sure to ignore the erections they would both end up sporting. Sam lost his virginity to a pretty lab partner in Toledo and Dean practically threw him a party. Sam hadn't wanted to bring Dean down, but he wasn't going to let his brother think that the girl had meant anything to him. He was doing what Dean wanted, but he'd spent the whole time pretending it was Dean he was with. When his acceptance papers to Stanford came, complete with a full ride scholarship, he couldn't quite make himself as happy as he'd thought he would be. He hated hunting, hated the life it made you lead. But the real reason he was leaving was that he couldn't stand to be around Dean anymore and not have him.

The day he made his big revelation that he was leaving for college and that he had the resulting knock down drag out with his father, was the day he made his last ditch effort to convert Dean. With his father's _don't ever come back_ , still ringing in his ears, Sam had stomped into the bedroom to grab his bag. He'd been able to put his whole life in one duffle and that made him sadder and more angry than just about anything else. Dean had followed him in and closed the door behind him.

"Been planning this for a while, Sam?"

"I'm going to college, Dean. I've never wanted to be a hunter. I can't wait 'til I can stay in one place all the time. Make friends I don't have to leave every couple of months. Get a real job. After all, there's nothing to keep me here." He took a few steps towards Dean, backing his brother up against the wall. Sam had grown in the last few years and now he topped Dean by about an inch. Sam ran his hand down Dean's face and leaned forward to breathe into his ear. "Unless some gorgeous sex god wants to give me a reason to stay." Sam should have been ready for the blow that knocked him backwards onto his ass, but he was totally unprepared for the violence of Dean's reply.

"Go to hell, Sam." Dean's voice shook. "You said it yourself! You hate this life. Hate hunting. But, what? You'll stay if we start fucking and everything you hate will magically be all better? You've been dying to get away from what we do ever since you found out what it was. So if there's nothing to keep you here, then get the hell out already."

"You could come with me. Dean you could leave too."

"No. No I couldn't. This is the life I want Sam. I love hunting. Saving people. It matters. And even if I did it wouldn't change anything. You still wouldn't be giving yourself a chance to find someone better. You want normal Sam. I can't be part of that."

"Someone better? There is no one better than you. You think I just want you because you're hot? I want you because you're _Dean_. I just wish I could make you see you how I see you."

"I see myself how I am, Sam. I can't be what you need. I really hope you find what you're looking for at Stanford." Dean took a deep breath and Sam could see him shoring up his walls. "Need a ride to the bus station?"

"No. I have a ride. Dean, I..." He stopped as Dean held up a hand.

"No chick flick moments Sammy. Be safe. And if you ever need back up you call me, you hear?" A car horn beeped from out front and Dean gave Sam his best grin. "Bye Sam."

"Bye Dean." Dean slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands as Sam walked out the front door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean had always been an equal opportunity sex god and, if after Sam left, he began to pick up guys a little more often, and those guys were usually young, (but legal), a little shorter than him, and slim with big hands and stupid floppy brown hair, well, what could he say? He had a type.

Dean had always been an equal opportunity sex god and, if after Sam left, he began to pick up guys a little more often, and those guys were usually young, (but legal), a little shorter than him, and slim with big hands and stupid floppy brown hair, well, what could he say? He had a type. Sam-like without all the baggage of being his little brother. Sam was out in the big world now. Finding himself. Finding the freedom to have the things _normal_ people had. Things like an apartment you could stay in for more than a month at a time. Things like a job and a class schedule that wouldn't change in six weeks time because you were in a different town at a different school. Things like sexual fantasies (followed by sexual experiences, but you never know, this was Sammy he was talking about here,) that didn't involve his big brother. Dean tried not to think too hard about that last one. He always got a twisted feeling in his chest at the thought of Sam having sexual experiences with other people. Whenever he started to wonder how that was working out for his brother, he'd get blind drunk and try to pretend that he hoped it was going well. Dean was only a lousy liar when it came to lying to himself.

No matter how much John protested otherwise, Dean knew his father was checking up on Sam as often as he could. Whenever Dean would ask how Sam was doing after one of John's not so secret trips, his father would just sigh and give Dean a bare bones status report. He's grown. His hair's longer. He's in a dorm with two hundred other students. He's getting straight A's. Dean never dared ask about Sam's sex life. He couldn't just ask his father if Sam had a girlfriend, or god forbid a boyfriend. He himself avoided Palo Alto like the plague. He wanted Sam to be moving on with his life and at the same time he wanted Sam to have tried out a variety of lovers but to have found none to be what he wanted. Which would be him. And how fucked up was that? Finally, a few weeks before Sam's twentieth birthday, Dean caved and headed for California.

He pulled Sam's address and class schedule out of the registrar's office computer and set up surveillance outside the library where he just knew his geek brother would be spending the majority of his time. As he watched the pretty co-eds wandering the campus in their California wardrobes, Dean decided he liked college. Sam must have found someone to have a relationship with among all the hot girls at this school. Damn it. He was leaning against a tree with a good line of sight to the library door and watching a trio of girls play frisbee when he heard the voice.

"Sam! Sam! Hey, Winchester, I'm talking to you!" The speaker was a pretty blonde girl who was running across the lawn to throw herself on the back of a tall guy with his back to Dean. The guy reached around and flipped the girl into his arms before turning around and laughing as he hugged her, then put her down. Dean just stared. Sam. Dad was right, he had grown. He must be topping six-four now and his hair hung shaggily down into his eyes. Dean kept his eyes glued to his brother's face. God, but he'd missed him. He wanted to go up to Sam and throw his arms around him. Wanted to tell him how much he'd missed having his bitch of a baby brother around. But Sam had obviously moved on and Dean didn't want to do anything to screw that up. Sam wrapped his arm around the girl's waist and they walked away laughing. Dean's body tensed as he thought of how easily he could have taken all this away from Sam. Just the one yes that he had so desperately wanted to say all those years ago and Dean would have fucked Sam up for life.

Dean watched Sam and his girl until they'd disappeared from sight. He wanted to follow them, not ready to give up drinking in the sight of his brother smiling and happy. It was a side of Sam he hadn't seen much of since Sam had hit puberty and he missed it. It killed him to turn and walk back to where he'd left the Impala, but it was what was best for Sam. Dean was happy for Sam, he was, but other feelings swirled inside him like a hurricane. Hurt, jealousy, loss, need. _Need_. Yeah, that was pretty much the only one he could do anything about. When Sam left he'd begun picking up his...his... oh, fuck it, his Sam substitutes, whenever he was feeling lonely for his little brother. He'd always kept their heads down when they were sucking his cock. Never fucked them face to face. Never called them by any name. But he never could delude himself enough to forget for one second that it wasn't Sam he was with. Other times when he was missing Sam, he'd remember that he'd started this whole thing by being totally unable to keep his dick in his pants. He still went out, but these times he let himself be picked up by someone who didn't want love or gentleness. By someone who wanted it rough and who would fuck him long and hard. Someone who would punish him with words and blows for the way he had screwed up his little brother. Dean headed back to the hotel. He had time for a shower and a six-pack while he waited for the bars to fill up.

By nine o'clock, Dean was clean and buzzed and looking good if he did say so himself. He'd had years to perfect the practice of getting himself ready for what he needed tonight. His jeans were tight and ripped in strategic places. His t-shirt outlined every muscle on his chest and back. His hair was mussed and perfect and he knew the guys would be lining up for a shot at him. He'd be able to take his pick. He'd scoped out the area before heading out to find Sam and he knew there was a bar a few blocks away that would be perfect. A back alley dive with a line of motorcycles out front and pool tables in the back. Oh, yeah. This place would be perfect.

Half an hour later, Dean walked into the bar. It wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either and he could feel eyes on him already as he crossed the floor to take a seat at the bar. The redhead wiping down the bartop wasn't a beauty, but she was pretty in a way Dean liked and the smile she gave him would have meant a wild night later if he hadn't been in the market for something so totally different.

"What can I get you?" she asked with a grin.

"PBR, please and a shot of whiskey."

"Comin' right up!"

A minute later, Dean was drinking and scoping out the men in the bar. Appearances could be deceiving, but none looked like they were going to be able to handle him like he needed to be handled tonight.

"Lookin' for anything in particular?" The bartender was back and leaning in front of him, cleavage displayed to maximum effect. "My name's Jenny and I get off at two."

Dean gave her a real smile and put a tinge of regret in his voice. "Not tonight darlin'. I'm looking for something a little....less soft. Not that you don't make it real appealing."

"Think you might have picked the right night." She was looking over his shoulder toward the door. "Might just get more than you bargain for tonight, sweetcheeks."

Dean swiveled around on his barstool to check out the man coming through the door. In spite of the barkeep's words, he didn't look like anything special. About his height and build. Same coloring. Jeans, flannel shirt, leather jacket. Dean followed the man's progress to the back of the room. He sat in a back corner where two other tables were already occupied by one man each. The other two men could almost have been copies of this one and they all eyed each other with dislike.

Dean snorted. "What, do they have a club? Call each other to see what to wear before they all go out? Sorry, but I don't think all three of them together could handle me, never mind just one."

Jenny snorted right back, but in a more ladylike way. "Them? They couldn't handle themselves. It's who they're waiting for. If they're all here, then he'll be here and baby, he'll give you all you can handle and more."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her. "I don't know. I can _handle_ an awful lot. And I don't back down to just anybody."

"Yeah, I can imagine you don't." A little doubt crept into her voice. "You definitely _look_ his type. Those guys back there have nothing on you in the looks department. He's had some that were better looking, but nothing that even comes close to you, honey. It's the attitude. I just don't see you sitting still for the kind of stuff he dishes out. Those guys back there are desperate for someone like him. You seem like you could do without it."

The smile was a little less real this time. "Most nights I can. Tonight just happens to not be one of them. This dude likely to show up soon?"

"Usually comes in around ten. Sticks around for an hour or two playing pool while the guys _audition_ for him. All these guys have been here before, so it shouldn't take too long. Unless you decide to play and then I think things will get _real_ interesting."

"Great. Why don't you set me up with another beer while I'm waiting and have one yourself. If you're not too busy you can keep me company and tell me more about this guy and the three stooges back there."

Jenny grabbed herself a brew and settled an elbow on the bar. "I'm not sure what this guy's name is. Every time he's here, his _dates_ call him something different. He's young, maybe twenty, twenty-one, built like a brick shit house and sometimes he seems like a college student and sometimes he seems like something else entirely."

"Like what else entirely?" This guy was starting to interest Dean.

"I'm not sure. A soldier maybe? A cop? Someone you don't want to mess with that's for sure. I saw him put down three bikers with a pool cue once when they were hitting on one of his guys and wouldn't take no for an answer. Kind of scary."

"He been coming here long?" This guy was _really_ starting to interest Dean.

"A little over a year. Used to be he'd hook up with different types of guys, but that only lasted a couple of months. Guess he decided he wanted something specific and he's been getting it here ever since. Those guys back there are pretty representative."

 _Wow_ , Dean marveled sarcastically to himself, _someone who actually tries out other options before deciding what they want_. Then he decided he was being unfair. Sam had eventually tried another option. The evidence of that had smacked him right in the gut that afternoon. Now he was pissed because Sam _had_ moved on. Why the fuck couldn't his life ever be easy?

Jenny's gaze sharpened and she inclined her head toward the back of the room. "He's here."

Dean twisted his head slightly and cast a casual glance in that direction. He didn't want this guy to know he was checking him out until he was sure he was worth checking out. The three guys had left their tables and were converging on a tall guy back by the pool tables. They were eyeing each other like strange cats locked in a small room and Dean snorted at the thought of these guys being any competition if he decided he wanted to go home with this dude. This dude who was turning around to greet his three little..little..shit. _His_ height, _his_ build, _his_ coloring, _his_ clothes. His three little Dean substitutes? Dean snorted softly and turned back to the bar. Mr. Dominant Scary Ass Soldier Dude? Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. So what was up with the hot chick at the library today? Sam had actually done what Dean had asked? Hot chicks and guys that weren't like the three (or four if you were being accurate) here tonight? And what had he come back to? The knot in Dean's chest that had appeared after Sam's declaration in Texas and had been pulled tight that afternoon loosened and he felt like he could breathe for the first time in years. Sam had come back to _him_.

"So," Jenny's voice interrupted his thoughts. "What's got you looking like the cat that ate the canary?"

Dean smiled and drained his beer. There was no fucking way any of those losers were going home with _his_ brother. He'd shoot them first. "Think I'm going to get me some of that action back there."

"Gonna let the big strong man boss you around?" her tone was teasing and Dean turned around with a laugh.

"He will _never_ be the boss of me."

"Then you're not his type," she warned.

"Sweetheart," Dean drawled, giving her the smile that set panties on fire across the continental U.S. "I'm the prototype of his type."

The bar had filled up in the last hour and Dean wanted to see what game Sam was playing before he joined in, so he meandered through the crowd, striking up conversations with pretty girls and casting frequent glances at the pool table Sam was doing his thing at. He and his _guys_ just stood around for a few minutes. Sam talking and the guys posturing and trying to make themselves be THE guy. Sam eventually turned to the table and racked a set of balls. He broke with typical Winchester skill and Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. Apparently Sam was only hustling ass here.

Sam made a gesture and one of the men came forward and took the cue Sam held out. Sam pointed out a shot he seemed to want the guy to try, then bent him over the table, hands guiding the cue, hips grinding into his ass. Dean watched, barely able to resist the urge to go over and pull Sam away from the scumbag, as his brother guided the cue back and forth in the guy's hands a few times then let it go and moved his grip to the guy's hips. The cue slid back and forth a few more times before it started forward to take the actual shot. Sam chose that moment to whisper something in the guy's ear and give a hard grind into his ass. The cue hit the ball, but not the one it was aiming at and Sam leaned back and let the guy up. Dean wanted to go over there and shove the pool cue down the guy's throat. Or up his ass. Or maybe both. Sam repeated this performance with the two other guys, then nodded at the one who had done the worst and the other two left with scowls on their faces. Dean managed to restrain himself far enough to not to kick their asses on the way out.

His decision made, Sam set about clearing the table and Dean knew he had to make his move now. He waited until Sam's back was to him, bent over the table, lining up a difficult shot. Dean came up behind his brother and leaned against him like Sam had leaned against those other guys. He was a little disturbed by the fact that he couldn't press against Sam's ass the way he wanted to. It was a couple of inches too high. Damn. Sam really had grown.

"You don't want to be doing that." Sam's voice was a low growl and Dean just grinned and rubbed his hand up his brother's back. When the pool cue came rocketing back towards his ribs he was ready for it.

"Not going to make the shot that way, Sammy." He had the end of the cue in one hand and the other still on Sam's back keeping the pressure on to bend him over. "Not going to make it at all, actually. Angle's a little off." He released the cue and slid both hands up Sam's back. "I'd help you out with that, but you seem to have gotten too freakishly long for me to reach."

Sam was silent, but Dean could feel his brother's heart pounding beneath his hands. Sam pushed back slowly and Dean retreated and let him up. Sam stared at him in disbelief and Dean felt the smirk that he knew drove his brother crazy slide across his face.

"Hey, Sammy. Want to bend me over that table and see if you can make _me_ miss a shot?" Sam's mouth was opening and closing but nothing was coming out so Dean leaned around him and spoke to the man waiting for his brother. "You can take off now, mini-me. He's not going to be needing you tonight."

The man's gaze hardened on Dean, but he managed to not let it scare him. Sam came out of his daze and gave the man a nod. "Go." was all he said.

The man took a few steps towards Sam. "But I'm supposed to be with you tonight."

Sam turned a blank gaze on him. "Are you arguing with me?" His voice was a dark purr of displeasure.

The man backed off and dropped his eyes. "No. No sir." Then he turned and left the bar.

Sam turned back to his brother. He seemed to be getting over his shock at seeing Dean again and his wide eyes swept Dean's body up and down.

"What are you doing here Dean? And what's with all the hands on? You're sending out some seriously mixed signals here, man"

"I just came here for some action, Sam. After what I saw at the library with you and the gorgeous blonde this afternoon I have to say I'm kind of surprised to find _you_ here. But what I saw after I got here, well it opened my eyes a little. Had a nice talk with the bartender. She told me you used to hook up with all sorts of guys. But lately you've been sticking to a type. My type." Dean hesitated here for a moment. "Well, sort of my type in a pale imitation, loser kind of way. But my point is, you've tried other options, Sam. And you obviously still want me. So, here I am."

"Jesus Dean, you were talking to the bartender about me? How did you know I'd even be here?"

"I didn't know I was talking about you at the time. She told me what time she got off. I told her I was looking for something different tonight. She told me about a guy that would be in later. I told her I was a lot to handle." Dean ignored Sam's eyeroll here. " She said she was pretty sure this guy was up to it. What do you think, Sammy? Think you're up to handling me?"

Sam was starting to come around, but he still hadn't gotten there yet, so Dean grabbed a cue and bent over the table, cocking his hips back. He looked back over his shoulder at Sam with a lascivious grin.

"Come on, Sam. Line something up."

Sam huffed an almost laugh and moved towards his brother with a smile starting on his face. He bent over Dean like he had the others. One hand pressed on his back, hips almost touching his ass. He studied the table for a moment.

"Bank shot. Seven off the nine then in the side pocket."

Dean studied the angles for a moment, then snorted. "Jeez, Sam don't you have anything harder? Oof!" Dean grunted as Sam ground against his ass. "I guess you do." he murmured, leaning further over the table and adjusting his cue to line up the shot the way he wanted. He pulled the cue back and forth a few times, judging the distance and speed he would need to make his shot, then let the stick fly forward. As he let the cue go Sam ground hard against his ass and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. If Dean hadn't spent the last twenty or so years having his life depend on not letting distractions get to him, the combination of Sam's moves would have had the cue ball flying across the bar. As it was, the seven banked off the nine and went neatly into the side pocket. Dean straightened up, still feeling the press of Sam behind him. He backed Sam off an inch or two with a discreet elbow and turned to look up at his brother, a cocky grin on his face.

"I was a little busy concentrating on my shot there Sammy, but I think I recall you saying something about me getting something if I made it. Want to repeat what first prize in your little pool shooting contest is?"

Sam put a hand under Dean's chin and tilted his head up. He leaned close, looking into his brother's eyes. "Christo." he breathed, while his other hand brought the sharp edge of a silver watchband softly across Dean's wrist.

Dean looked at the thin line of blood appearing on his skin then back up at his brother. "It's really me, Sammy."

"I had to be sure, Dean. You're not really acting like you."

Dean looked at his brother in confusion. "Really? I think I'm acting just like me."

Sam had to concede this point. "O.k. I guess you are. You're just not acting like you act with me."

"Oh." Dean had a sudden, horrible thought. Maybe Sam didn't _want_ him to act that way with him anymore. "Sam do you still...I mean if you don't want...I can go. I should probably go." He turned to leave, the knot in his chest back, bigger and tighter than before, making it hard for him to breathe. He was so fucking _stupid_. He made it about two steps before Sam's hand gripped his arm and hauled him back. He found himself pulled against his brother's ridiculously broad chest and Sam was whispering in his ear.

"Breathe, Dean. I've got you and you're not going anywhere." Sam waited a few moments for Dean to calm down and then went on. "No one's ever won first prize in my pool shooting contest before. You don't want to leave before the awards are given out do you?"

Dean shuddered out a breath. "What did you say that prize was going to be again?"

"I said," Sam breathed into his ear, "that if you made the shot I would take you home and suck your brains out through your dick. Of course, in your case, I would have done it even if you missed. And if you think I want you to leave, it won't take very long to get those brains out, because there can't be much there to start with. I've been waiting for this for years, Dean. I'm not letting you get out of this now."

"Don't want to get out of it Sam." Dean had fully recovered and flashed Sam his cockiest grin. "Want to get out of here, though. How about you take me back to your place and you can show me what I've been missing all these years."

There was a flash of uncertainty, almost embarrassment, across Sam's face. "Thought we might want to go back to the motel."

"No, Sam. I want to see where you live. I mean, where were you going to go with that other guy if I hadn't been here?"

Now he was sure it was embarrassment staining Sam's cheeks. "Back to my room. But it's kind of set up for...well, it's not set up for _you_."

Dean couldn't resist. "Well, not for the _real_ me."

"No, Dean." Sam's whisper barely reached Dean's ears and the look on his face made Dean's breath catch in his throat. "Never for the real you." Sam took his brother's arm and propelled him toward the door. Dean caught Jenny's eye and waggled his eyebrows at her. _Have fun_ , she mouthed with a smile. _Fun_ , he thought to himself, was not what he had come here looking for, but he'd be damned if that wasn't what he was going to end up having.

Dean watched Sam as they headed to the parking lot and grinned when his brother's face lit up at the sight of the Impala. When Sam slid into the shotgun seat and slammed the door, Dean let out a deep breath. This was going to happen and once it did there was no going back.

"Sam," Dean's hesitation was clear in his voice.

"No, Dean. You don't get to back out of this now."

"It"s totally fucked up."

"Fucked up is the Winchester way." Sam reached out and turned Dean's head to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "At least we'll be fucked up together."

 _Together_. "Okay, Sam. Fucked up together it is." Dean pulled his baby out of the parking lot and headed for the dorm.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Got it." Dean breathed. "Just real you and real me. And there ain't nothing like the real thing, baby."

Sam shared a two bedroom suite with a couple of his friends and since the guy he'd roomed with had dropped out in the fall semester, he had one of the bedrooms to himself. His suitemates had gone away for the weekend and Sam, as was his usual practice when this happened, had planned a few days of sex with one of his guys from the bar. He liked to get started as soon as they got to his room, so he always set everything he wanted up beforehand. That being the case, he was desperate to keep Dean from going into his room until he could get in there and put some of the stuff away. Dean took a look at the two doors leading from the central living area, decided that the one that had "Jess & Shawn" stenciled on it wasn't the one he wanted, and walked right through the other.

"Damn, Sammy." Cuffs attached to short chains hung from each corner of the headboard of one of the beds. The other bed held a collection of vibrators, clamps and gags. Several short floggers hung from the wall and blindfolds of various materials were draped over the dresser. "Ready for anything tonight, weren't you?"

Sam huffed softly in reply. "Not anything. I sure as hell wasn't ready for you." Sam hesitated for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to rip Dean's clothes off, throw him on the bed and suck him into incoherence, but he'd given some thought in the car to Jenny's conversation with his brother. From what Dean had told her, she'd thought Sam would be just what he was looking for. Was what he had set up here what Dean really wanted? If so, he was in trouble. There was no way he could use any of this stuff on his brother. "When Jenny told you I'd be able to handle you... Is this what you came to the bar looking for tonight, Dean?"

Dean cleared his throat and looked up at Sam from underneath those ridiculous lashes. "Truth, Sam?" When Sam nodded he continued. "When I came here, to Palo Alto, I really didn't have any idea what would happen when I saw you. And then I saw you. At the library. With a gorgeous blonde wrapped all around you." Dean's eyes dropped away and he cleared his throat again. "And you looked happy. And that was great. I wanted you to be happy and moving on with someone else. Until you actually were. And then I just....I felt..." Dean's hand came up to rub across his mouth as he turned away from his brother and his voice dropped lower. "After you left I did what you did. Went out and found substitutes. And they weren't ever enough, but they were something. And sometimes when I get so pissed at myself for screwing things up between us the way I did, I go out and find someone who'll just...." Dean stopped there and Sam watched him straighten his shoulders and turn back to face him. Sharing time was officially over and Dean went on with his cocky smirk back in place. "Who'll just be totally unlike you. Though looking at this place, they might not have been as totally unlike you as I thought. And when I saw you all over those guys at the bar, I just..." Another clearing of the throat was followed by: " And just who was that hot chick anyway?"

Sam snorted at his brother's clumsy attempt to change the subject, while at the same time biting his lip to keep himself from railing at Dean. If Dean had been out looking for what Sam gave his not Deans then he'd been hunting pain and humiliation and lots of it. He hated that the way he felt about Dean had made his brother so unhappy that he'd needed to find someone to hurt him to forget about it. But he couldn't say that to Dean, so he answered his question instead.

"That was Jess. She's one of my suitemates and we sort of have a thing. But it's not serious and she knows I have, um, other interests too." Sam smiled and moved towards his brother. "Now you have to get ready for the awards ceremony Dean. Let me help you."

Sam stopped in front of Dean and leaned down to envelope his mouth in a soft kiss. It was nothing like the kisses Sam had forced on his brother in Texas, because this time Dean was kissing him back and damn, but his brother was a good kisser. Dean's lips pressed soft and open against Sam's and his tongue probed Sam's mouth like it needed to learn it by heart. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it to the floor before starting to unbutton his shirt. Sam's hands had already undone Dean's jeans and he disengaged from that luscious mouth to drop to his knees and push them down. He couldn't get them off past Dean's boots and the sight of his brother's cock dangling, hard and beautiful in front of his face made him forget everything else. Dean pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it on Sam's head.

"Come on, Sammy. Just let me get my boots off. I'm not falling over you because my pants are caught around my ankles."

Sam gave a low moan of frustration and pushed Dean back a few steps until his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards onto it. Sam set a land speed record for boot lace untying and tossed Dean's boots, socks and jeans with the rest of his clothes. Dean lay on his back, propped up on his elbows, with his legs bent over the edge of the bed. Sam knelt on the floor in front of him and his eyes stared at his brother's body until the image was burned into his brain. When he'd gotten his fill of looking and Dean was starting to fidget uncomfortably at the scrutiny, Sam surged forward onto the bed and captured Dean's lips against his again. He kissed his brother until they were both gasping and then went back to his knees and leaned forward between Dean's spread thighs. Sam took Dean's cock gently in his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the head.

"Sammy." Dean 's rough gasp brought Sam's head up. Dean wasn't about to say anything. It wasn't his style. But the look in his eyes told Sam all he needed to know, so he smiled and lowered his head again, pressing soft kisses down the length of Dean's shaft and then slowly engulfing his brother's balls in the heat of his mouth. Dean groaned and moved his hips, pressing forward against Sam's tongue. Sam moved back a little, releasing his brother's sac. He began making little circles with his tongue, ending with one long, hard swipe up Dean's shaft that left his mouth poised over the head. Sam released the air he had been holding in a long sigh, feeling Dean's thighs shudder beneath his hands as the hot breath gusted over his sensitive flesh. His mouth closed around the tip of Dean's cock, sucking gently and tonguing the sensitive areas underneath the head. He sucked and licked his way slowly down the shaft, until he had taken Dean all the way in, then slowly worked his way back up again. On the second pass, he sucked harder, holding Dean's hips down and he took his brother deep into his throat. Dean had sat up a little so he could tangle a hand in Sam's hair and he'd started to talk. Actually, Sam thought, he'd started to babble.

"Oooh, God, Sam. Feels...God. Yes! Harder, Sam. God, yes right there!" Sam sneaked a look up at Dean's face and felt a flash of satisfaction at the bliss he saw there. Dean's head was thrown back and his eyes were squeezed shut. A sheen of sweat dampened his face and that gorgeous mouth was wide open and making noises that had Sam drawing his brother in deeper. He'd known he could make Dean this happy, if his stubborn jerk of a brother would only give him the chance. "God, Sammy. Gonna..." Dean tried to pull back as he felt his climax coming, but Sam pulled him in even further and swallowed around Dean's cock until his brother fell back with a strangled cry and flooded Sam's mouth with his come. Sam locked his lips around Dean and swallowed until his mouth was empty of everything but flesh.

Sam sighed and moved back before climbing on the bed to lie beside his brother. Dean was flat on his back, breath coming in ragged gasps. Sam bent over Dean's mouth and was pulled down as his brother's hand wrapped around the back of his head. Dean was plundering his mouth, tongue probing and tasting and making noises that were going to have Sam coming in his pants in a minute. Dean seemed to realize his brother's plight because he pulled back and ran his hand down Sam's t-shirt covered back. over his denim-clad ass before cupping the bulge in the front of his jeans.

"Want to get a little more naked here, Sammy so I can take care of this for you without messing up your pants?" Dean's smile promised all sorts of things and Sam pulled off his shirt, while Dean maneuvered him out of his jeans. Sam stretched out on the bed and Dean knelt next to him taking in the sight of his brother's body the same way Sam had earlier. Dean's eyes traced Sam's chest and hard belly, down to his rather oversized cock and back up to his flushed face. He wasn't sure what Sam was expecting here, but Dean knew just what he was going to do. He settled himself down beside his brother and began to kiss him again, one hand tracing up Sam's stomach to flick and pinch at his nipples. Sam groaned and tried to reach for his cock, but Dean batted his hand away. "No touching, Sam. I'll get you there, don't worry." Dean had come out tonight prepared for a good, hard fucking and just because he didn't necessarily _need_ it any more didn't mean he didn't still _want_ it. He'd prepped himself a little before he'd left his room because there was painful and then there was ripped wide open. He was masochistic, but he wasn't stupid. "Got any lube in this little den of iniquity, Sam?"

"Top drawer of the nightstand."

"Excellent. Now why don't you just move on up and sit at the head of the bed." When Sam just looked at him, Dean grinned. "What's the matter, Sam? Not used to your _subs_ telling you what to do? Don't worry. You're going to love this, I promise." Dean got up to get his lube and Sam repositioned himself on the bed, never taking his eyes off the sight of Dean walking across the room. "Stop staring at my ass."

"It's a nice ass. Now hurry the fuck back over here and get started on whatever it is that I'm going to love so much before my dick decides to just finish things off on it's own."

"Yes sir." Dean mocked as he returned to the bed and crawled up to straddle Sam's lap. He took his brother's head between his hands and leaned in for a soft, deep kiss. Sam was moaning under his lips and his hips were jerking up into Dean's crotch. Dean broke the kiss and popped the top on the lube, squeezing a good amount onto his hand and slathering it over Sam's dick. Sam gasped and twitched at the feeling of his brother's hand sliding up and down his slicked up length.

"God, Dean. What... I mean I thought you'd want..."

"What Sam. That I'd want to fuck you? Oh, I do, but you sort of took care of that for now with that exceptionally awesome blowjob you gave me. So, since I _was_ looking to get fucked tonight myself, I thought I'd ride you and that would take care of both of us just fine. What do you say, Sam?" Dean moved his mouth to Sam's ear and ground down against him. "Up for it?"

"Nggh, just fucking do it already!"

"Yes, sir." This time it was a hot and dirty whisper. Dean reached down to position himself and then sank down, groaning softly as the tip of Sam's cock breached him. His prep job was going to be just a little insufficient for Sam's Sasquatch size, but it wasn't going to be impossible. He slowly lowered himself down, inch by inch, keeping his mouth plastered to his brother's and swallowing Sam's moans to keep himself going. Finally, with a gusting sigh, he was all the way down, Sam's balls pressing against his ass. He dropped his head to Sam's shoulder as he sat very still, waiting for his body to adjust. One of Sam's hands stroked his head, while the other rubbed soothing circles on his lower back.

"O.k., Dean?" If this was one of Sam's regulars he'd already be bouncing up and down on Sam's dick, ready or not. But this was Dean and Sam wanted every one of their first times to be perfect. His eyes slid down and sideways to the cuff lying on the bed beside him. The thought of Dean riding him with his wrists cuffed and chained to the bedpost had him swallowing hard. He wondered if Dean would let him..."

"Don't even think about it, Sam."

"I wasn't.."

"Yes you were." Dean's voice was a harsh rumble and Sam fought to keep himself from thrusting up into Dean before he was ready. "Some of the stuff over there we can talk about later, but no restraints and that's non-negotiable."

Sam cast a quick glance at the other bed. "You mean you'd let me..?"

"Yeah, or you'd let me. I've had a real good time with the right person and some of those things." He finished with a grunt as Sam pulled his head back and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.

"Don't want to hear about who else you've been with, Dean. I know you'll be gone in a day or two and when you're not here you do what you need to do. And I'll do what I have to. But when you're here with me, there isn't anybody else, o.k.?"

"Got it." Dean breathed. "Just real you and real me." The cocky grin flashed back across his face as he started to raise himself up the length of Sam's shaft. "And there ain't nothing like the real thing, baby." Sam's head fell back against the wall with a thump as Dean got into a rhythm, raising and lowering himself, rocking and twisting his hips, clenching and loosening around Sam's eager flesh. Dean pressed his lips to the bared expanse of his brother's throat and began to suck little bruises around the base. Sam growled and pulled Dean's lips back to his before grabbing his brother's hips with both hands and thrusting up hard to meet Dean's downward slides. They were grunting and writhing against each other when Sam pulled Dean close and felt his come shooting into his brother's heat. Dean collapsed against Sam's chest, pressed so close he could feel his brother's heart pounding.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and just held him until his breathing returned to normal and he pulled back. Dean raised one hand to Sam's face, then ran it through the mop of stupid hair that he'd missed so much.

"You all right, Sam?" Dean's voice was still sure, but his eyes had dropped and Sam knew what he was really asking. He reached out and tilted Dean's head back, seeing the anxiety he'd expected in his brother's eyes.

"It was perfect, Dean. Just the way I want things to be with us. You were amazing."

Dean snorted, but the surety came back to his eyes. "Of course I was, Sammy. Amazing is my middle name." He raised himself off his brother's lap with a grimace. "Shower? Love the sex, hate the sticky aftermath."

"Aftermath?"

"Shut up, Sam. You going to show me where your shower is so I can drag your giant ass into it with me, or are you going to lie there and comment on my vocabulary."

Sam was up and leading his brother out of the room in about two seconds. "Shower sounds better."

"Yeah, I thought so too."

A few minutes later they were engulfed in hot steam, kissing and touching each other like they couldn't stop. Sam couldn't take his eyes off his brother, because Dean wet was even more beautiful than Dean dry. Sam soaped up his hands and began to run them over every inch of that gleaming skin. Dean had gotten half hard when he was riding Sam and Sam concentrated his attentions on getting his brother all the way there. Sam pulled Dean back against his chest and his soap slippery hand slid between Dean's thighs to cup his sac.

"Sam," Dean groaned, pushing against his brother's fingers.

"Shh, Dean. Gonna get you there." Sam wrapped his hand around Dean's shaft and began to slide, finishing each pass with a firm twist around the head. His other hand traced it's way up Dean's belly to his chest where it began to flick and rub at his nipples. Dean moaned as he hardened in Sam's grasp and he twisted his head around to search blindly for Sam's mouth. Sam lowered his head to take Dean's lips beneath his and groaned himself as their tongues collided. His hand moved faster as Dean began to thrust into his grip and it wasn't long before Dean was climaxing-his hot fluids cascading over Sam's hand. They stood under the pounding heat of the shower for a few more minutes until Dean slumped back against Sam's chest and his eyes drifted closed.

"Dean?"

"Mmmmh?"

"You falling asleep on me?"

"Mmmm."

"When's the last time you slept?"

"Dunno. Tuesday, maybe?"

"Dean, it's Friday. You haven't slept in three days?"

"Needed to see you, Sammy. Missed you." Dean was mostly asleep now. Those words would never have come out of his mouth awake. His next words definitely wouldn't have. "Afraid you might not want me any more."

"Always want you, Dean. Always. Let's get you dried off and back to bed. We can pick this up in the morning."

"After breakfast?' Even nine tenths asleep, Dean still had his mind on his food.

"Breakfast in bed sound good to you?"

"Girl."

That was the last word Sam got out of Dean before laying him back down on the bed. Sam moved the toys from the other bed so they'd have a clean place to sleep. He then pulled back the covers and moved Dean over, rolling his brother to the other side of the bed. Sam joined Dean under the covers and was surprised when Dean instantly rolled over, trapping Sam's arm underneath him and wrapping an arm across Sam's chest. Dean's face burrowed into Sam's neck and Sam wrapped the arm stuck under Dean around his brother's back and pulled him close. Sam had missed Dean like crazy, but underneath the missing Dean was terror that Dean would be hurt or killed and Sam would never see him again. There was nothing he could do about that. Dean wouldn't stop hunting and his style was all or nothing. There was no being careful for Dean. Sam hugged his brother tight and felt his soft breaths against his skin. In a few days Dean would be gone again so Sam just lay awake and listened to the quiet sounds of his brother living. Dean was right. There was nothing like the real thing. No replacement for it ever. Sam closed his eyes and rested his head on top of Dean's. For as long as he had the real thing in his arms, Sam was determined to make the most of it. He wondered if Dean would let him call the real thing _baby_. No, he decided, probably not.


End file.
